Escape to Boot Camp
by LightningEagle
Summary: Max and Iggy and brother and sister, being sent to bootcamp by their mother. They are happy and have a goopd life with loving parents. Fang, on the other hand is being sent to bootcamp be his abusive father so he 'toughens up'. Max notices Fang, and is curious about his silence. What will happen?
1. Chapter 1 :-

**A/N: *DRUMROLL* Hey y'all! So this is my first fanfiction, not quite sure where I'm going with it yet. Anyway, feel free to reveiw (duhh) and I'm not gonna say 'no flames' or anything because, well, it might be really bad and I might deserve flames, but hopefully not! :3 Okay, I'll shut up and yet you read the first chapter. **  
**But wait, I gotta stick this in here first. Sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride or any of the charcters from James Patterson's 'Maximum Ride' series. All I own is the plot, though I did base some of my ideas on fanfics by other authors on this site. **

***"*"*"*"*"*"*"*"*"*"*"*"*"*"* (A/N: These are my line breaks, cool huh?)**

**Max POV:**

_Bzzzz bzzzzt! Bzzzz bzzzzt!_

Urgh! I reached out an arm and whacked my good-for-nothing-apart-from-annoying-me alarm clock, sending it crashing onto the floor. Oops.

Groaning, I threw off my navy blue _Bastille _duvet (what can I say? I'm not a pink kind of girl) before stretching my arms above my head and yawning. That's about as far as my multitasking skills go, unless I'm listening to music, dancing (sod off, I actually _can _dance, thank you very much) and singing (okay, I'm not so good at that one).

I made my way blearily to the bathroom, where I did what _everyone _does in the bathroom, and splashed some water on my face.

Feeling slightly more alive now, I decided to go and wake up my brother dearest, Iggy. I opened his bedroom door without knocking (I could hear him snoring, I'm not some creep hoping to see my brother topless, ew!) and immediately had to take a step back because of the unmistakable stench of _teenage boy_. Urgh.. I made a mental note to tell Mum to get him an air freshener, and maybe some extra strong deodorant.

Anyway, back to the task in hand. Breathing through my mouth, I tiptoed into the room, carefully stepping over the various junk that littered the floor. You had to be extra careful in Iggy's room, because it was highly likely half of the junk was explosive. He's scarily fond of explosions and loud bangs.

I finally reached Iggy's bed, where we was snoring softly, blowing a lock of blonde hair off his face with each breath. I smirked. This is going to be fun.

Step one, take a couple steps back from victim. Step two, run up to victim. Step three, jump on victim.

I executed thee three steps perfectly, if I do say so myself. Iggy let out a high pitched scream and shot up.

"Ma-ax! I was sleeping!" he growled, blindly hitting out at me. Hilariously, he missed. I couldn't stop laughing.

"Ig, you are-" I burst out laughing again, "-such a _girl!_"

Iggy mumbled something under his breath and pushed me off the bed.

Still laughing, I got up off my butt and headed for the door. "Remember we're leaving in an hour, 'kay?"

Oh yeah, I probably should have explained. Iggy and I are going away to a outdoor boot camp thing that's supposed to 'kick your kids into shape'. Mum signed us up because she says we don't get out enough. I think she just wants a week of peace, plus the high school is paying for everything because they have lottery funding or something. I don't really care.

We leave today. Iggy _really _doesn't want to go. He threw a proper tantrum when mum said we were going, wouldn't speak to her for a week. He gets really nervous around other people, especially if he hasnt met them before. I think he has social anxiety. I feel bad for him, especially ince I find it son easy to talk and become friends with people.

"Max, Iggy! Breakfast is ready!" My mum's voice floated up the stairs, along with the tantalizing smell of bacon. Time to get ready to roll.

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**Fang POV**

My door creaked, and in an instant I was wide awake. I lay completely still in my bed, making sure my breathing didn't hitch. Maybe if he thought I was asleep, he would leave me be for tonight. I was leaving tomorrow (or I could be this morning, I wasn't sure) anyway, couldn't he just let me be this once?

"Get up, I know you're not asleep," a deep voice growled.

I didn't move. He was probably bluffing.

"I said get _up_, you piece of shit!" I sudden blow to the back of my head made my gasp. A hand grabbed my shoulder and yanked it.

"You're awake, now _get your fat ass off that damn mattress_," a voice I sadly knew all too well hissed in my ear.

Knowing better than to disobey, I stood, wincing as my muscles protested loudly and a scab broke open on my back. The man pushed me roughly towards the door, and I bit back a yelp as more scabbed over wounds started to bleed again.

I limped out of the door and was shoved in the direction of the stairs that led down to the cellar. _Oh god please no, not now,_ I pleaded silently. I tried to turn around, maybe get away. I don't know.

"What the hell are you doing?" The man was right behind me.

"Please, what will people think if I have bruises on my face? You can't do this to me right now, I leave soon, remember?"

Wow. That was perhaps the longest sentence I've spoken in months.

The man snorted, and grabbed my collar, bringing my face right next to his. "Why should I care?"

"P-people will ask questions," I stammered. Oh god, I was stammering now?

"You're fucking pathetic, you know that? Say you fell off your bike or something. Otherwise keep your hood up. I'll try not to damage your ugly face too much."

I nodded, not daring to tell him that I didn't even have a bike.

"But this is a first and a last. Don't expect any more favours from me." And with that, he punched the side of my head and I blacked out.

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**Fang POV:**

I woke up only 5, maybe 10 minutes later, with my hand chained together above my head to the ceiling and my feet just touching the floor. I realized from the cold draft circling me that I was stark naked, save for my boxers. Great.

I opened my eyes blearily just in time to see a whip, with what looked like tiny ice daggers protruding from it, coming towards me. It struck my chest, and I cried out in agony. It was like nothing i had ever felt before. Looking down, I saw small bits of ice sticking out of my skin, slowly melting and causing a _crazy _amount of pain.

Before I could even understand what was happening, another whip came at me, this one purely slicing my flesh in a ruler straight line. I bit down on my lip so hard I drew blood, and it dripped down my chin onto the red puncture dots where the ice had been. It had melted, letting the blood flow freely from me.

Now the man was in front of me, a dagger in his hand and a demented grin on his face. "Enjoying this, _Nicky_?" he whispered, and then he _licked my chest_. I shuddered in disgust and had to fight the sudden urge to puke. He had just licked me! Whilst I was covered in warm blood, too. What the hell?

My confused mind was distracted when I felt a hot white pain on my back. He was carving something into my back. The pain was so awful, so _horrific,_ I could hardly think straight.

"You're such a whore, Nicky," the man purred, biting my ear lobe. Nicky was his pet-name for me, and I hated it with a passion. I actually had to swallow some vomit back down, ignoring the burning sensation it caused. It was nothing compared to the pain that dagger was causing me. The man worked his way down my shoulder, biting and sucking, all the while carving intricate, jagged patterns and words into my back. The knife cut clean through newly healed scabs, making yet more blood dribble down my spine.

"You're _worthless,_"the man hissed. "You don't deserve to be alive. I could kill you right now, you know?" I could feel the man's words tumbling down on me as tears streamed down my face.

_"You're worthless, you shouldn't be allowed to live, you're scum, you're dirty, scum, nothing, nothing, you're nothing, everybody hates you, Nicky, Nicky, Nicky, Nicky, you're nothing but a whore, just a fat, ugly whore, nobody wants you, nobody loves you, you're nothing. Meaningless. Forgotten."_

Those insult echoed in my head, blocking out everything else. Nobody loved me. I was worthless. I was scum. I was nothing. I deserved to die.

"...Do you like that, Nicky? Hmm, you do don't you? Whore."

I blinked and looked down in shock to find that the man was playing with my _thing. _This time, I couldn't hold it back. He was molesting me! I leaned to the side and wretched, vomit sliding down my leg and into a puddle at my feet. The man jumped back in disgust.

"You asshole!" He yelled, and backhanded me in the face. His ring scraped my right cheek harshly and I winced.

The man walked behind my and unchained me. I fell to the floor with a cry and lay there.

"You're supposed to leave in three and a half hours. Clean yourself up, and make yourself look presentable. And remember," the man crouched beside me and grabbed my chin, forcing it up so I had to look at him.

"Tell anybody, and _I will kill you_."

I don't think I've ever said this, but I hate him.

I hate my father.

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**A/N: *Hides behind sofa* So, how was it? You're not going to pelt me with raw vegetables? **

**Any criticism (as long as it's not utterly stupid) is welcome, as I'm trying to improve my writing all the time. **

**Thank you! :*  
**

**~ LightningEagle**


	2. Chapter 2 :-

**A/N: Hey, so I hope you're happy that I got the second chapter up so quick! Don't expect such quick updates all the time, what kind of author would I be if I didn't keep my readers in suspense? ;)  
(Also, I noticed some silly mistakes in my last chapter, I'll try not to make any this time!)**

**Max POV:**

Mr Allen heaved my bag up onto the baggage shelf above my seat for me. I was quite impressed, actually, that bag was really heavy. Iggy managed to put his up himself, and went to sit with his friends at the back of the coach. I rolled my eyes. They called themselves the backseat boys; Iggy, Dylan, Sam and Ari. They were the badboys in our high school, and they _did _come across as the kind of I'll-kick-your-puppy guys, but they were real softies when you got to know them.

I sat alone. Iggy and I were quite early to get on the bus, since mum thought we had to be here half an hour earlier than we actually did. None of my friends were here yet (is it just me or does that sound really cheesy?).

"Hey, Max! Aren't you excited about this trip? My brother went last year and he says you get really muddy and stuff so I didn't bring many of my designer clothes, hey, are those new converse? They look amazing! I got some half-price in Primark last week, is that where you got them? I really like them! Maybe we can swap shoes, OMG that would be so cool! People would be like-"

I slapped a hand over her mouth. I take back the cheesy thing I said about none of my friends being here. Meet Nudge. The talk-a-tron.

"Ew, Nudge!" I yelped as she licked my hand. "Gross! Nudge germs!"

Nudge rolled her eyes. "Sorry I exploded on you," she said sheepishly, making me laugh. Whenever Nudge has one of her 'episodes', or 'explosions', she talks nonstop for ages. We've timed her, and her record for non-stop talking is three and a half hours.. Yeah.

Nudge always calls them 'explosions' which reminds me of Iggy. Who, by the way, she has a huge crush on. Heh.

By now, people were starting to cue behind Nudge, who was still standing in the isle. Before anyone got grumpy I invited her to sit on the inside. I always sit on the outside seat. It's like an unspoken rule that everybody follows without questioning it.

Nudge sat down and started talking about something again. I nodded along and took out my iPod and headphones. I held one out to her.

"Shut up and listen," I said with a grin. She smiled at me and took it, then wriggled it into her ear. I put my one in too, and _Bastille _started thumping into my right eardrum. (if you're obversant, you may have noticed that I like Bastille. You probably would have guessed earlier if I'd described the posters that cover my bedroom walls, but that would take hours...).

The coach was starting to fill up, and I could hear the random chatter of my fellow students (hah) through my unoccupied ear. The school slut, Lissa, was complaining about how she didn't even want to go, but her parents had said it would be good for her pores or something. I quickly moved on when she started talking about how many different colours of thong she had (she wasn't even embarrased as people stared at her in disgust, the pig) .

"Everyone sit down, we leave in five minutes!" Mr Allen called, looking up briefly from his conversation with Ms Cairn, who everyone is pretty sure he has a crush on. Aw.

The last people were getting on now. I recognised most of them from my classes, except this boy. He was one of the very last to clamber onto the coach, and he was dressed all in black: black converse, black jeans, black baseball cap and, you guessed it, a _black_ hoodie (why was the hood up? It wasn't raining _inside _the coach, was it?). I figured he was emo or something. The only thing I could make out under his hood were a few long bangs hanging over where his left eye would be, if I could see it.

"..Max? Maaaaax? Max!"

I blinked and turned to Nudge, who was smirking at me. "You were totally checking him out!" she squealed, pointing to the guy-in-black that I had been _looking _(not staring!) at.

I felt colour rise to my cheeks. "I was totally _not!_"Nudge just smirked, before going back to singing along to the _Bastille _track that was currently playing. I let out a breath that sounded more like an indignant huff and turned back to the aisle. The emo-boy was now sitting in the seat directly across the aisle from me. He was taking out a slightly battered looking iPod and headphones.

"What music do you like?" I asked him. He didn't look up where he was now untangled the wire on his headphones (which, I feel I should add, are white. Huh, shouldn't they be black? Kinda ruining my emo theory here).

"Hey! I asked you a question!" Yeah, I don't like being ignored.

His head shot up, and his hood fell down. I stared. There was a massive jagged scar running down the left side of his face. He hastily pushed his long, dark bangs over it selfconsciously, before yanking his hood back up.

"D'no," he muttered.

"D'no? Never heard of them before," I remarked sarcastically. This guy was starting to piss me off.

"Linkin Park," he muttered quickly, and I could tell he was glaring at me, though I couldn't see because of the shadow the cap and hood made over his face.

"How'd you get that scar?" I asked. He visibly tensed. Turning away from me, he plugged the now untangled wire into his iPod, put his headphones on and stared out the window. Even with _Bastille _in one ear, I could definitely hear the unmistakable sound of _Linkin Park _blasting from those white headphones.

"Fine, be like that," I muttered, before turning back to Nudge.

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**Fang POV:**

I could feel that girl staring at me. It was making me uncomfortable and I wanted to change seats, but because it took so long to bandage my wounds so the blood didn't show too much, I was one of the last ones on the bus, and this was the only seat left.

I rummaged around in my bag, which was quite light, due to my lack of my belongings, for my iPod and my headphones. They were almost definitely the most valuable things I owned, and I scavenged the headphones from a shopkeeper (I still owe him twenty quid) and my mother got me the iPod before she.. passed away.

Anyway, this girl kept staring at me, and I kept ignoring her, even when she asked me what type of music I liked. Talking to people makes me feel nervous, like I'm exposing all my secrets without realizing. Weird.

"Hey! I asked you a question!"

My head shot up at her angry tone, and I had to fight every cell in my body so I didn't flinch. Just my luck, my hood fell down and my face was exposed. Shit. She was staring at the left side of my face, and I knew my scar was visible. I quickly brushed some hair in front of my eye, hiding it. That had been the first 'present' my dad had given me. Three weeks after my mother passed away. Three weeks after he'd murdered her..

I blinked, returning to the present. I need to stop thinking about that, it was four years ago for god's sake! I need to stop thinking about _her_. But how can you just _stop _thinking about your _mother?_

I yanked my hood back up. Suddenly remembering that the girl had asked me a question, I mumbled a quiet, "Dunno."

"D'no? Never heard of them before," she said harshly, her eyes deceiving how little she thought of me right now.

"Linkin Park," I muttered quickly, giving her a glare she probably couldn't see. Oh well.

"How'd you get that scar?" she asked me. Whoa. Nobody asks that. They all kinda guess that I don't wanna talk about it, due to the fact I always hide it. Is she really this thick?

I turned away from her, trying to relax my tensed shoulders. I put my headphones on (they're white, wow, don't die of shock) and skipped to my favourite _Linkin Park_ song. With the volume turned up as loud as it would go, I managed to relax slightly as comforting, familiar words blared into my ears.

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**Max POV: **

I talked to Nudge for a good half hour before I remembered about the boy sitting beside us (well, across the aisle, but whatever!). I turned my head to look at him, whilst taking my earplug out. It was starting to hurt my ear.

I almost did a double take as I saw that the boy now was facing us, with his back against the window and his legs straightened out on the empty seat next to him. I couldn't if his eyes were closed or not, but I couldn't feel his eyes on me, so I guessed not.

A sudden shaft of sunlight flickered over him, illuminating his facial features for a few brief seconds. His eyes were closed, and dark lashes made shadows over his cheeks. His lips were parted slightly, and I could see the bottom of his top middle teeth (did that even make sense?). His cheekbones stood out perfectly, and I had a crazy desire to trace them through his tanned skin. I reached forward, my arm outstretched, before a hand yanked my it back.

"What were you doing?" Nudge questioned, letting go of my forearm. She had one plucked eyebrow raised at me.

"I- er, nothing," I mumbled. "I was going to turn the air con off, it's getting slightly chilly."

"Did Maximum Ride just use the word 'chilly'?" Nudge snorted. "And it's not cold, it's roasting. God knows how he's still alive in that hoodie." She nodded to _him_.

"Oh. Haha, I thought it was cold. I guess I must have felt a draft coming from somewhere." I laughed nervously. Nudge raised her other eyebrow so now they were both raised at me. Jeez.

"Mhmmm."

But in my head, I was asking myself one question.

_Did I just feel attracted to some emo guy I don't even know?_

Weird.

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**A/N: Thank you, thank you! *catches bouquet of roses* Aw, you're too sweet!  
****Max: Er, those are for Fang. Y'know, the sexy emo-**  
**Me: *slap* Fang is not emo! He wears black so you can't see the blood! Goodness, have some sympathy!  
****Max: Did you just slap me?  
****Me: *gulp***

**Anyway, please review! Max really wants you to. I hope. She should, this story is all about her and Fang!**

**~LightningEagle~**


	3. Chapter 3 :-

**A/N: Okay, so I should probably warn you guys that this chapter is like double the length of the other ones. I considered splitting it into two, but I just couldn't find a good place to. Think of it as a present from me. You're welcome.**

**Anyway****, please read and REVIEW! Any ideas are welcome, I might incorporate them into the story ;)**

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**Fang POV:**

I could vaguely feel someone shaking me, but I didn't know who. Probably _him_. I don't like thinking of him as my father, let alone my_ dad_, so I usually just refer to him as, well, him.

Suddenly I was running. I didn't know where I was (in a forest of some sort maybe? How did I get here?) but I could hear scream and angry shouted echoing over each other all around me. It was awful. My breathing was coming in short, terrified pants as I willed my legs to go faster. I could feel the danger closing in, the trees making my path increasingly narrower and difficult to navigate.

I wildly looked around, but everything was hazy and unclear. Why was it so unclear? What was wrong? The screaming was catching up with me as I desperately turned around, trying to find the path. It was gone. Where had it gone?! I needed to get back to path, before it caught up with me! Before _he_ caught me!

_Worthlessundeservingshittyselfishstupidfatuglystupidunworthyshittyuselessfatstupidvilefatundeservingvileuglyhorrificwo__rthlessundeservingshittyselfishstupidfatuglystupidunworthyshittyuselessfatstupidvilefatundeservingvileuglyhorrific_

_"You're such a whore, Nicky," the man purred._

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**Max POV:**

We were finally here. I took out my earplug again (I had put it back in when my ear felt like it could take it) and glanced at Nudge, who was staring at something behind me.

"What's wrong with him?" She asked me, pointed to the seat across from us. I looked to my left and was unpleasantly (but I don't think it was unpleasant, actually) reminded of the emo-boy sitting there. But.. what _was _wrong with him?

He seemed he be having a nightmare of some sort. He was squirming and occasionally letting out a terrified yelp. I glanced at Nudge with one eyebrow raised before leaning over and shaking him. His eyelids seemed to flutter briefly before he let out a whimper. One lone tear slid lazily down his cheek. This must be a pretty bad nightmare. He didn't seem the type that would cry. But that would yet again ruin my emo theory. Argh. Anyway!

He was sweating like crazy. I went to unzip his hoodie (it must be really uncomfortable), and suddenly his eyes flew open and he grabbed my arm, twisted it, then pulled so I was yanked out of my seat towards him. Whoa.

In a sudden series of quick, professional moves of his hands, I was quickly pinned against the back of the seat in front with my arms tucked behind my back in such a way that I couldn't move them. My legs were on the empty seat that had been beside him, and he was sitting on them. Which was rather painful, actually. My eyes were bugging out of my head. What _was _this guy, a judo master or something?

"Nice, but this position is kinda sore on my legs." I said drily, silently adding _'and my arms!'._ His head snapped up and he stared at me in shock, before whipping his head around to look behind him. Everyone was staring at him, with their mouths wide open.

"Shit." He swore quietly. He let go of my shoulders and slid into his original seat. "Sorry."

I snorted. "Yeah. But that was pretty cool. Do you do judo or something?" He looked confused for a second before realizing I was talking about how he'd managed to get me completely immobile in the space of about three seconds.

"Oh, er, no."

Not much of a talker is he?

"Anyway, we're here. I was trying to wake you up, but, er," I gestured with my hands towards where I had been pinned. I think he smirked.

"I'm Max," I said, holding out my hand for him to shake. Oh, he was definitely smirking now.

"Fang," he said, taking my hand and kissing it, distracting me from his weird name. he just kissed my hand! I was blushing madly, and Nudge squealed and was now poking me urgently in the back.

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**Fang POV:**

Shit, shit, shit! I suddenly remembered where I was. I was on the coach, on my way to bootcamp. He wasn't here. He was miles away.

I'd pinned her to the seat! Her eyes showed how shocked she was. Come to think of it, her eyes showed a lot, and not just a pretty colour (wait, did I just say her eyes were pretty? No, no. I just like the colour. That's it.) My reflexes had reacted to someone trying to touch me (not like that, you dirty minded people). Which also made me wonder, why_ was_ she trying to unzip my hoodie? Probably as a joke or something. Yeah.

"Shit. Sorry," I apologized sheepishly, releasing her. She snorted. Very ladylike.

"Yeah. But that was pretty cool. Do you do judo or something?"

What? How could- Oh. She thought I'd done that whole thing on purpose?

"Er, no?" Smooth one, Fang. Real smooth.

"Anyway we're here. I was trying to wake you up, but, er," she waved with her hands to where I'd had her against the seat moments ago. I smirked at her uncertainty.

Seeming to decide something, she held her hand out, probably for me to shake.

"I'm Max," she said. Ah, that was her name. Strange, for a girl. Anyway, me, being the rebel I am (was that sarcastic? I'm not even sure) took her hand and kissed it lightly. Mmm. She smelled nice. Not completely covered in perfume, but just the right amount to make it smell natural.

"Fang," I replied. Her eyebrows furrowed briefly, and I could bet she was pondering on my extremely uncommon name, before red rushed to her cheeks. Probably from my little peck on her hand. Hah.

Max's friend was making a high pitching noise that almost made me wince. She turned to talk to her but just as she started to speak, Ms Cairn told everyone to get off the bus and that our bags would be put in our rooms for us. I snorted, and swung my backback over one shoulder. The sad truth was that I didn't trust the teachers not to go through our bags. They had told us that any electrical equipment was going to be confiscated, along with any sweets or snacks our parents may have given us. Like I'd get any snack treats from _him _anyway.

"You might wanna hide that," I told Max, pointing at her iPod.

"She smirked at me as she pulled on her jacket, then showed me the inside of it, where I could just see the outline of a secret pocket. Nice.

I shoved my headphones in my hoodie pocket and put my iPod in my jeans pocket, for lack of a better place to hide them.

Everyone trudged off the bus, and luckily none of the teachers questions my backpack.

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**Max POV:**

"Alright, listen up! Some of you seem to think that you're here on some kind of _holiday_, but you are here to work, and you will work _hard." _A gravelly, uneven voice said.

I stood in the middle of the line teenagers around my age, and tried to keep a straight face. This guy was hilarious. His face was bright red, and so was the bald patch on his head.

Nudge was beside me, and she turned her head slightly to catch my eye.

As soon as we saw each other, we both burst out laughing. Which probably wasn't that smart.

"Ride, White, would you mind telling us what is so _terribly _funny?" the guy, I think his name is Mr Rogers, snarled **(A/N: Nudge's second name is White in this story).**

I tried to stifle my laughter, and failed epically.

"N-nothing," I gasped between fits of giggles, holding my ribs.

"Right. Twenty press-ups, now." His voice was eerily calm, and I managed to stop laughing.

"Wh-what?" Nudge's eyes were wide with horror. I don't think she's done a push-up in her life.

"I said twenty push-ups, now!" Mr Rogers growled, seemingly angry again. This guy was pretty prone to mood swings..

Seeing no obvious easy way out of this (without killing anybody, that is), I sighed and got down into the press-up position. Nudge, shaking slightly, followed.

"Okay. Go!"

We started. I think I was doing about five press-ups for everyone one Nudge did. By the time I'd finished, she'd only done four.

"Impressive, Ride. We'll make a man out of you yet."

I had to pretend to have a coughing fit to cover my laughs.

Finally, Nudge finished, panting and looking incredibly embarrassed.

"Hmm. Looks like we have quite a lot of work to do here, White. Everyone, go to your dorms. The bell for dinner will go in thirty minutes, follow your map to the canteen. If anyone is more than five minutes late, they will have to do an extra half hour of exercise tomorrow."

A few staff people in uniform (even though they looked barely older than me) gave each of us a map. Blimey, this place was massive! Everybody started to whisper to each other, some excited, some seeming almost traumatized at the thought of _exercising._

Mr Rogers blew a whistle, making us jump. "You are dismissed," he said

We exited the 'assembly room', as it was named on our maps, and stomped to the dorms. Sadly, me and Nudge were in separate dorms. Typical.

"I'll see you at lunch!" I called to her as she headed towards her dorm. She smiled and waved back.

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**Fang POV: **

I entered my dorm and looked around. Nobody else was here yet. The dorm wasn't that big, but it was an okay size. There were three beds, one of which was a bunk bed. Smirking slightly, I threw my bag onto the top bunk. and climbed up after it. I liked feeling unreachable, above everybody.

There was as on suite off to the right, as well as four little chest of drawers, presumably one for each person. I unpacked a few pairs of jeans and t shirts, but not much else. For some reason I felt like my stuff was safer in my bag.

Suddenly the door burst open, making me jump. A guy with blonde hair and blue eyes sauntered in. A typical heartthrob.

He eyed my silently. Maybe he wasn't much of a talker, that would suit me great.

After what seemed like an age he sat on the bed below my newly claimed top bunk. "I'm Iggy," he mumbled. **(A/N: Btw, Iggy isn't blind)**

"Fang," I replied, studying him. He was quite tall, but still probably shorter than me. Though I'm taller than most guys my age, so it didn't really come as a surprise. He has blonde hair that flopped just above his eyes, and he looked like he really didn't want to be here.

Then again, he probably had a loving family and a warm house to go back to. Frankly, I much preferred here.

"You don't look like you're loving it here," I commented.

"Yeah," he said, a smirk pulling at his lips. "I get nervous around other people. I never really know what to do or say. It always feels like they secretly hate me." He let out a shaky laugh. "You seem alright, though." Ah, so it was just the people that got to him.

I just shrugged in reply. "Don't talk much." He nodded, seeming to understand. His mouth opened, and I thought he was going to say something else, but just then the door burst open _(again) _and our three remaining dorm mates sauntered in.

Iggy seemed relieved when he saw a boy with tanned skin and dark hair. "Sam!"

Ah. They knew each other.

"Oh, hey Iggy. We share a dorm? That's cool," he grinned. "Who are you?" he gestured towards me, and I looked down at me feet. I didn't like attention.

"Oh, that's Fang. He doesn't talk much."

I glanced at Iggy gratefully, and he seemed to understand because he grinned and shrugged, as if to say 'it was nothing'.

"Iggy, this is Raymond," Sam gestured (I noticed he seemed to do that a lot) to a boy with dirty blonde hair, grey eyes and dark skin tone. Strange combination.

Raymond did one of those cool-guy head nods, where you tilt your chin upwards. "Hey Iggy, Fang," he acknowledged.

"-And I'm Ben," the other boy grinned, but I noticed he seemed to eye me with distaste. Hmm. I'd have to be careful around him.

We still had ten minutes until lunch, so I decided to go into the on suite and check my bandages. I think a few scabs had broken during my struggle with Max on the bus. I grabbed the small bag I kept all my bandages in, just in case,

As I walked into the bathroom and locked the door, I absent-mindedly wondered what Max was doing. She was probably chatting with all the other girls in her dorm. It didn't seem as if it was difficult for her to talk to people.

I pulled my jumper off gingerly, not wanting to irritate my cuts more. I pulled off my t-shirt too, then walked over to the mirror.

"_Shit!_" I exclaimed, rather loudly. I heard a murmur through the wall.

My bandages were soaked with blood. I craned my head awkwardly around to look at my back in the mirror. The bandages were doing nothing. I peeled them off, wincing as more scars, old and new, were exposed. Blood dripped into the sink and onto the floor. Gritting my teeth, I grabbed my bag, now glad I had brought it into the bathroom with me. I took some bandages out of it, and took a wash cloth from the cupboard under the sink.

I soaked the wash cloth with warm water and gently wiped the blood off of the skin around the deep cut the whip had made in my skin. The stinging was nothing compared to the pain that cleaning the cut itself caused, but I managed. Probably because I had endured much, much worse.

"What are you _doing_ in there Fang? I need to pee!"

Crap. I recognized that voice as Sam.

"Er, I'll be out in a minute, I just dropped my contact lens," I shouted to him. Hah. I don't even wear contact lenses.

I quickly twisted so I could see my back, well, sort of. I wiped the blood off as best I could, crying not to cry out at the crazy throbbing it was causing.

Finally, my back was blood free. That was good, but it also meant I could read the words that were carved to carelessly into my flesh.

_Stupid, _ was the first word I read, though the jagged strokes that came with trying to write with a knife made it almost illegible. Then there was _ugly, fat, pointless, vermin, scum_, and quite a few others.

But one word stood out from the rest. Running straight down the middle of my spine, was a word that I probably could have read from a mile away. _WORTHLESS _was scribed almost elegantly in a perfectly straight line down my back. He'd taken time on that one. It made me almost want to cry. But I don't cry. Apart from when there's a dagger being stabbed into me. But I think that can be forgiven, right? **(A/N: I know there was 'one tear' during Fang's nightmare, but he doesn't know about that, he was too busy having a nightmare.)**

I wrapped the bandages around my torso, making sure they covered all of my wounds. You never knew when they might start bleeding again. It would be hell once this 'training' thing starts.

Suddenly, a loud bell rang through the dorms. I guessed it was dinner time. Quickly throwing on the black t shirt and hoodie I was wearing before, I exited the bathroom.

"Sorry," I said apologetically to Sam. "I think my contact went down the sink."

He nodded, accepting my apology. "It's fine, I used the toilet block. It's only around the corner. Now come on, let's get to dinner. I'm starving!"

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**A/N: So, what do you think? Was it okay? I know it's not exactly jam-packed with action, but I need these first few chapters before I can get to the main part of the story. If you're a writer yourself, I'm sure you'll understand.**

**Max: Why won't you let me and Fang have a proper conversatioonnn?!**

**Me: You did, on the coach!**

**Max: That didn't count. *pout***

**Me: *sigh* Fine, I'll see what I can do for the next chapter. Happy?**

**Max: Yay!**

**Me: You sooo have a crush on Fang though.**

**Max: No, I just.. like him..**

**PLEASE REVIEW! OTHERWISE I WILL KILL IGGY OFF! MUAHAHA!**

**(I feel so powerful, oh my gawd)**

**~ LightningEagle ~**


	4. Chapter 4 :-

**A/N: Yo! Sorry I haven't updated in a couple of days, the last week of school before Easter break has been _mental_. And I did say not to expect quick updates all the time ;)  
Okay, just to clear some things up:**

**Max's age: 17**

**Fang's age: 17**

**Iggy's age: 17**

**Nudge's age: 16 **

**Sam's age: 16**

**Ari's age: 16**

**Dylan's age: 17**

**Any other ages probably around 15 - 18 unless it says otherwise :)**

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**Max POV:**

I discovered I was sharing a dorm with three other girls. Which was normal. The only thing was.. they were all extremely girly. If I think I'm not a pink girl, they definitely _are_. As soon as I walked in, the three of them had been all over me, squealing, especially when they saw my hair.

"Ohmygosh!" one had gasped, dragging her perfectly manicured fingernails through it. "With a little bit-" her finger snagged on a knot "-okay, a lot of work, your hair could be totally amaze!"

"It would look amaze in a french plait," one of the others had agreed.

That word was ringing in my head. They seemed to use it in almost every sentence. Amaze, amaze, !

Don't get me wrong, they were all really nice girls. They were just a bit.. overthusiactic. And girly. Definitely girly.

I had found out that their names were Alex, Sophie and Zoe. Alex was probably the least girly out of the three. For instance, she didn't think it was _completely _scandelous to wear jeans, as long as they were skinny and it was a weekend. I think I'm in for it, as I usually wear jeans daily.

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**Max POV:**

Dinner was, surprisingly, okay. It wasn't all soggy lettuce and stale bread, though some of the bread _was _a bit dodgey. Their steak pie even even better than my mum's, and she's makes a _beast _steak pie.

I saw with Nudge, Iggy and his friends. They were all talking excitedly about what had happened so far and what could happen. I think Iggy and Sam were plotting to plant a stink bomb in the boy's toilet block. Knowing what Iggy could do, this was pretty basic. Well, actually, it was _extremely _basic. I think this is a tester for something bigger and probably highly destructive. Hmm, I'd have to watch out.

I noticed Iggy seemed a lot more at ease now. But that could just be a facade. He's quite good at them, though he can't hold one for long. When he breaks down, it's always me that picks up the pieces and puts them back together. **(A/N: Aw, sibling love!) **Iggy has sworn me to secrecy about these episodes, not that I mind. I love my brother, and I'm not embarrased to admit that.

Anyway! Enough with the soppy stuff. Ugh. I tuned back in to what Sam, Ari, Dylan and Iggy were talking about just in time to hear Dylan ask who Iggy was dormed with.

"Er," he said, trying to remember.

"Me," Sam said slowly, faking offense.

"Yes! Sam. I didn't forget you, I was just distracted and-" Iggy mumbled, before Sam cut him off.

"Relax, Ig. I was joking," he laughed.

"Oh." Iggy laughed slightly, the relief showing clearly on his face. Facade? Mm, I wasn't sure, but I didn't think so.

"Well, I'm with Sam, and these other two guys. Raymond and.. Ben, did you say his name was?" Iggy told us, looking to Sam for confirmation of the last bit. He nodded.

"And that's it.. Oh! No, wait. We have this strange guy too. Fang. He's really quiet."

"Oh, yeah. I'd forgetten about him," Sam laughed.

Whoa, I'd copmpletely forgetten about Fang. I wondered where he was now. Looking around the dinner hall, I couldn't him anywhere. Maybe he'd already finished. Oh, well, I'd probably see him at training tomorrow. Good. I mean, not that I desperately _wanted _to see him, I just wanted to know how he was getting on.. Yeah. I just wanted to see him and-

Oh whatever. I want to see him. He's my friend. Kind of. Is he? I don't know. I'll talk to him tomorrow.

This little internal battle won, I walked out of the hall with Nudge, who had asked if she could come and meet my dorm mates.

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**Fang POV: **

I'd tried eating something at dinner. In fact, I'd eaten a lot. It was the best food I'd tasted in four years. Well, the only food I'd tasted for four years had been bread and watery soup, occaisonally potatoes if I was lucky. So it was no surprise that the soggy cabbage and _undescribably brilliant _steak pie had been so great going down.

..They didn't taste so good coming back up. I was currently hunched over a toilet, puking my guts up. Yeah, ew. I know.

The sticky, watery substance was flooding into the toilet bowl with each agonisingly loud wretch. It felt like I'd been doing this for hours, and it was extremely unpleasant.

Finally, my wretches turning into dry heaves, and then ceased altogether. I stood up shakily, flushed the toilet, then slid down the wall of the cubicle, two hands pressed to my sweating forhead. I felt like absolute shit. My stomach was spasaming, my vision kept blurring and a headache was starting to pound away at my skull.

_And this is only the first day?_

With this hazy thought in mind, I passed out.

**Iggy POV:**

It was quarter to eleven, and I was sitting on my bed, surrounded by darkness. We had been told that we were expected to be in our rooms by 9:30pm for the youngest kids, who were only about 13, and 10:00pm for the rest of us. Forty five minutes later, and Sam, Raymond and Ben were all totally out of it. Fang, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Sighing, I finally got up. I couldn't sleep with this. I considered Fang a friend now. Opening the dorm door silently, I walked around the corner and up to the office. There was a slightly tired looking woman sitting there in complete uniform, signing some papers. I coughing quietly, and her head shot up.

"You're out of bed," she stated, and looked at me, probably for an explanation.

"My, er, my dorm mate, he's not in the dorm. I haven't seen him since dinner time, and I was wondering where he was."

She nodded. "What is his name?" Crap. Was Fang his real name? It couldn't be. Could it?

"Erm, Fang?" I mumbled.

She stared at me quizzically. "Is that a nickname?"

I felt colour rise to my cheeks. "I- I don't know. That's who he introduced himself as."

She sighed, before turning to sift through some paper behind her. After a moment or two, she stopped, and pulled out a piece of paper with the name _Nick Walker _printed at the top. Underneath, in messy handwriting, was _goes by the name of 'Fang'_. Ah. So that was Fang's real identity. Weird, I couldn't quite picture him as 'Nick'.

"Thank you for informing us," she told me. "What is your name?"

"Iggy- Er, James." I quickly corrected, and she gave me a strange look.

"Sorry. Iggy's my, er, nickname." I laughed shakily. And she tutted, saying something about kids these days and weird names, but smiled slightly. I immediately felt more at ease.

"And what's your last name, James?" she asked.

"Oh, sorry. Griffiths. James Griffiths." I said, and she nodded, jotting it down.

"Okay. If you just go back to your dorm, we'll find out where your friend went. Don't worry, he's probably just lost. It's a big place" she smiled. I thanked her and turned to go back to the dorms. Hopefully Fang would turn up.

*"*"*"*"*"*"*"*"*"*"*"*

**A/N: So! Fang is 'missing'! Hehe. (This is NOT a Figgy story, Fang and Iggy are just friends.) **

**Max: YOU PROMISED THAT FANG AND I WOULD HAVE A CONVERSATION!**

**Me: Er, well, I kinda forgot about that.**

**Max: You **_**what?**_

**Me: I er, I'm just waiting for the right moment! Shush or I will make you hate Fang!**

**Max: *quietly seething* **

**Please review as always, it inspires me to write more! ;)**

**~ LightningEagle ~**


	5. Chapter 5 :-

**A/N: Hey, so I hope you enjoyed the last chapter.**

**Max is currently on a time-out, thank you for that idea, hehe. **

**Please read and review this chapter. **

**Warning: Character death. Oohh.**

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**Fang POV:**

"Urgh.." I groaned, blearily opening my eyes. Blinking a few times, the world came into focus and I remembered where I was. I was lying awkwardly on the floor of the toilet cubicle. I'd passed out. I'd been sick. I'd eaten too much. Running through what had happened a few times made things clearer, and I finally tuned into the real world. That's when I heard what had woken me up: someone was banging on the door.

"Nick? Nick Walker? Are you in there?" They knew it was me? How did they know it was me?

"Yeah," I mumbled, and cringed at how weak my voice sounded.

"Nick?"

"It's me," I called, slightly louder. Man, I sounded like absolute crap.

"Are you okay?" God, did I sound okay? I just wanted them to go away so I could sleep. Right now I didn't even care that I was on the floor of a toilet cubicle.

"Alright, Nick. Stay there, we're going to come in now."

They sounded like those ambulance paramedics trying to calm distressed patients. But I wasn't distressed. I wasn't a patient either.. Was I?

Suddenly the door burst open, just missing me as it banged against the wall. Two men, in the standard camp uniform stood in the doorway.

"Holy shit," one muttered under his breath, earning a sharp glare from the other.

"Okay, kid.. Can you stand?"

I groaned in response. Their voices were making my head hurt again. The men sighed.

"We're going to lift you up and take you to the medical room, okay?"

Shit. No. What if they wanted me to take my jumper off? They couldn't see the scars. They'd laugh. They'd say I was weak. No. I wasn't weak. I didn't need them. I didn't need _anyone. _I could take care of myself!

Extremely shakily, I got to my feet. "I'm fine," I hissed, my tone dark. I'd have to get out of here quick. My vision was starting to blur again.

Barging out of the stall, I managed to stumble out of the toilet, then had to lean against the wall for support. I was so tired..

"Seriously, Nick. We don't want to force you, but you're sick. You need to go to the medical room."

"No I don't! I'll be fine." I snapped. Whoa, there were four guys? Wait, no, now there was two again.

"Nick is there any reason you don't want to go? We're not going to hurt you," one of the men said. Now they were talking to me like I was five. For god's sake, do they not get the message? But I really did feel awful. Maybe they'd let me off with some headache tablets..

"I'll.. I'll go, as long as I don't have to take my jumper off. Or anything." I muttered quickly, feeling embarrassed.

They gave me a strange look. "You can keep your jumper on, of course. I don;t see any reason for you to have to take it off. "

Relief flooded through my veins, but was instantly replaced with doubt. They could be lying. They probably were lying..

But I was so _unbelievably_ tired.

My eye-lid's fluttered shut, and I felt my body sway dangerously, before arms wrapped around my waist, effectively stopping me from splatting onto the floor.

"Bloody hell, he must be exhausted," the man holding me up muttered.

"It's half past one in the morning, I think he's got an excuse," the other pointed out.

I felt the man shrug. "He smells like puke." Sigh. "Let's take him to Ms Fisher before he wakes up and freaks out again."

"Mm."

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**Max POV: (A/N: *sob* all I want to write about is Fang, but we need Max in here too..)**

It was nearly 1:30am. Everybody in my dorm was still awake, giving each other manicures in the bathroom. I had escaped to go to the girl's toilets just outside our dorms. But before I could get there, I heard voices coming from the next corridor along.

Now, I wouldn't describe myself as nosy, but I _was _curious to see who it was. Therefore, I went to look.

What I saw wasn't at all what I had expected.

Two staff members, both guys, were standing beside a boy, who's face was hidden in the shadows. He was leaning heavily against the wall, and his posture screamed 'sod off, I'm tired'. Yep. I'm a good judge of posture.

"-don't want to force you, but you're sick. You need to go to the medical room," I heard one of the guys say.

"No I don't! I'll be fine." The boy replied. He sounded so weak. Wait a minute, I recognized that voice..

Fang?

"Nick is there any reason you don't want to go? We're not going to hurt you," the other guy said. Nick? Who was Nick? Maybe it wasn't Fang. Or was Nick his real name? I didn't know.

"I'll.. I'll go, as long as I don't have to take my jumper off. Or anything."

That was definitely Fang. But.. why would they want him to take his jumper off? And why would he not want to..? God, I had so many questions.

"You can keep your jumper on, of course. I don't see any reason for you to have to take it off."

Fang nodded, then slouched even further against the wall, and started to pitch forward. One of the guys caught him. Had he just.. fallen asleep?

"Bloody hell, he must be exhausted." Yeah, no shit Sherlock.

"It's half past one in the morning, I think he's got an excuse," the other guy pointed out.

"He smells like puke." My eyes widened. Was Fang _actually_ sick?

"Let's take him to Ms Fisher before he wakes up and freaks out again."

The guy holding Fang up lifting him up and swung him over his shoulder.

"..He's really light. And I mean _really _light." He told his partner, shocked.

"Probably because he vomited his guts up into a toilet," the other shrugged.

"No.. It feels like I could just snap him in half without even trying."

He can't be that fragile if he managed to flip me in less than like three seconds. Let's be honest here. But you can't normally lift up a seventeen year old guy that easily, like he's a piece of paper. Thousands of possibility ran through my head. Was he ill? Did he have a disease? Was he... bulimic? I settled for the least self-destructive theory - that he was probably just naturally skinny.

They started walking, and I followed. What? This was interesting. And I.. I was worried about Fang. He was my friend, I had a right to be worried!

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**Fang POV: **

_I was with my mother. We were at the park, and I was about eight._

_We sat on a bench, and she got me an ice-cream. It was mint chocolate, my favourite flavour at the time._

_"Aren't you going to have one?" I asked her between licks. _

_"No, no. Have to watch my figure," she laughed, pointing to her bulging stomach._

_I grinned. "Can you feel it?" _

_"Yes," she said. "Do you want to?" I nodded eagerly and she picked up my hand and placed it on her tummy. There was nothing, and I began to get disappointed. But then I felt it - a soft kick. Then again, and again. My mother was grinning happily, and I squealed. _

_"I can feel it! I can feel it!" I yelled, and my mum shushed me._

_"You might scare her," she told me, but she was still smiling._

_"But how can she hear? She's in your tummy," I asked, confused. _

_"She has very good hearing. She can hear you speaking now," my mother said._

_My eyes lit up. "Hello baby!"_

_My mother laughed. I loved that sound. Her laugh was one of the most beautiful things in the world to me._

_Suddenly, this happy scene started to fade, and was replaced with my mother again, but there was something terribly, terribly wrong. _

_"No! You killed her! You murdered my daughter.. You murdered your own daughter!" _

_"No I did not!" A voice roared, and a nine year old me cowered back under the dining room table. _

_"I saw you! You stabbed her! Don't even try to deny it, you monster!" My mother yelled. She had never yelled before, and I didn't like it. It scared me._

_Suddenly, there was a savage roar of fury, and my mother screamed in agony. I peeked under the tablecloth to see my father had my mother pinned against a wall, and had stabbed her in the gut with a knife. _

_I didn't understand what was happening, I couldn't comprehend it. All I knew was that this was bad, bad, bad. My mother was gasping, her hand pressed against her stomach._

_"You are a monster," she spat at him, "and I hope you rot in hell!"_

_"We'll see," my father smirked, and then he laughed. It was a crazed laugh, the laugh of a maniac. He dropped my mother to the floor, and I immediately ran to her side. She stared at me in horror._

_"No, Nick! Run! Escape! Go, now!" she tried in vain to push my away._

_"Mummy!" I wailed. "Mummy! I love you, Mummy," I cried, and the first tear dripped down my mother's own cheek._

_"I love you too, Fang. I love you so much."_

_And with that, her eyes closed. Somehow, I knew that they would never open again._

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**A/N:**

**I cried writing this.**

**I'm still crying.**

**Max: *sobs* Oh my god, I feel so.. so.. *sobs again***

**Me: *sobs with Max***

**Please.. *sniffle*.. Please review.. In honour of Fang's mother. :''(**

**~ LightningEagle ~**


	6. Chapter 6 :-

**A/N: Ahh! I am back! Finally. I was dragged awayon some unplanned holiday to Rome, which was interesting and all, BUT I HAD NO WIFI! The pain that caused what incrediable. Withdrawl symptoms, probably. Heh. Anyway! This is the new chapter (state the obvious why don't ya..). **

**As always, please read and reveiw! (I'm writing this on a broken laptop, I can only see half the screen so please excuse any spelling/punctuation/grammatical errors!) **

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**Max POV: **

Fang lay on the white bed in the sick bay. His eyes were open, and he was staring blankly at the ceiling. I don't think he'd noticed me yet. It was liek he was in some sort of trace, but instead of the deep inhales and exhales you'd imagine, his breath was coming in sharp, short pants. There were tear streaks down his cheeks, and he was muttering something under his breath.

"Just a dream, Fang. It's not real. It's dream. Not real. Not real," he whispered, but his voice sounded so broken, it made _me _want to cry.

"..Fang?" I whispered. His head whipped around so fast I'm surprised he didn't get whiplash.

"Max?" He sat up, and I felt a something tug in my stomach - he recognized me!

"Are you okay?" I asked, exactly the same time as Fang said, "Why are you here?"

"I'm here because-" Oh god. Should I tell him I saw him in that state? "-I saw you in the hallway just outside the bathroom, with the staff.."

He visibly bristled. "You saw that?"

"Yeah," I said quietly.

"Max," he said suddenly, sounding desperate. "That- That wasn't me, okay? I'm not usually like that. I'm not usually that weak."

I stared at him. "You weren't being weak," I said gently. "How can you think that?"

He just let his head fall back and looked at the ceiling.

"What time is it?" His voice was so quiet, I barely heard him.

"Er.." I glanced at my watch. "Wow. It's five past two."

He turned his head slightly, and studied me. "Go to bed," he told me, more than asked. "You look exhausted." I blushed slightly.

"I'm not. Are you okay, though? When you woke up, I thought maybe-"

"Don't," he said, his voice sounding pained. I looked at him for an explanation, but clearly I wasn't getting one. Normally this would annoy me, but I didn't. Maybe just because he sounded so sad, so.. helpless.

God, I sound like such a sop. Which am I not. At all.

I got up reluctantly and headed for the door, but suddenly a voice stopped me. And it wasn't Fang.

"Excuse me? May I ask why you are here when you appear fine, and it's 2:15am?" I slowly turned to see a slightly chubby woman in light blue dress with a white apron. Standard nurse uniform.

"Er.."

"She came to see me." Fang's voice cut through the uneasy silence like a knife, and the nurse's head turned to look at him.

"Ah. Actually, you need some more headache pills. Give me two seconds." She turned to me. "Follow me, please. I need help with the boxes."

I nodded. She was letting me stay. I followed her into the storage room, and she starting looking through boxes.

"Do you know Nick?" She asked. Huh? Who's Nick?

"Nick? Oh, you mean Fang. Yes. I know him, kind of."

"Fang?"

"Nobody calls him Nick. He introduced himself as Fang." I explained, and she nodded in understanding.

"Ah, I see. Well. I think there's something wrong with Ni- Fang, something he doesn't want to tell me. You don't know anything, do you?"

I shook my head. "No. But he had a nightmare on the coach, and reacted when I tried to wake him up. Strange thing was, I don't think he did it on purpose. It looked like reflexes."

"How did he react?"

"Er, he pinned me to the seat. I couldn't move. At all."

She looked at me, her broiw furrowed slightly. "Do you think he's dangerous?"

"No! I mean, I don't think he would intentionally hurt me."

"So, what's your relationship with him?"

I stared. "What?"

"On his file, it says he rarely talks, or at least initiates a conversation. Yet you two were chatting fine."

"..You were spying on us?"

She looked mildly embarrased. "No. I just overheard. Sorry."

Surprised she was apologising, I shrugged, then remembered her original question. "And I don't have any relationship with him. I mean, I'm not like his girlfriend or anything. We just me on the coach here." She nodded.

"Can I ask your name?"

"Maximum Ride, but if you call me anything other than Max I will snap your neck."

She chuckled. "Maybe you're the dangerous one, hm?"

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**Fang POV:**

Max and Ms Fisher were still having their little chat in the storage room. I wasn't stupid. I knew the nurse was questioning Max about what she knew of me. Luckily, she didn't know much. But how close had I been to spilling? Pretty damn close. I'd have to be more careful. She made me feel safe, and that was deadly.

Finally, the two walked back into the ward. "I couldn't find them," Ms Fisher said apologetically, and I snorted disbelievingly, but said nothing. My head _was _still pounding. I really wanted those pills.

I held my hand out for the pills. She gave me them, then walked back into her office with a smile and a wave.

I dry swallowed them, then turned to Max. She was staring at me.

"What?" I asked. God, my head felt better already.

"Y-your arm.." she stammered. I looked down at it.

_Shit. Fucking shit. _

My hoodie sleeve had slipped. My scars were in plain sight.

They weren't the ones the man had put there. Several pinky white lines laced my wrist in ruler straight lines.

I hadn't touched a blade for months. But looking at them almost brought the urge back.

"Fang-" she murmured. I looked down at the bed.

"Get out," I whispered harshly.

"Fang, please-"

"Get _out_."

She turned and walked out, not even glancing over her shoulder. I took a deep breath, suppressing tears.

Now she thought I was disgusting. She'd seen what I really was. A monster. I was a monster. Not worthy or life. Definitely not worthy of Max.

Fuck, I really needed a blade. Damn you, Max.

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**A/N: Unexpected twist! Kind of. Not really that unexpected. Oh well.**

**Max: Fang thinks I hate him!**

**Me: Stop complaining. You had a proper conversation, didn't you?**

**Max: Urgh! You're impossible! **

**Me: It's one of my many charms ;)**

**As always, please reveiw! I love reading what you have to say :) **

**~ LightningEagle ~**


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